


rip my heart out / feed it to the hounds

by renjunarc



Series: the mini market on the bloody avenue [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Magical Realism, death but no one really important, horror themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renjunarc/pseuds/renjunarc
Summary: in which the mini market on the bloody avenue isn’t entirely what it seems.





	rip my heart out / feed it to the hounds

**Author's Note:**

> i got inspiration from an NCT fic and so, this idea was born ~  
> also got inspiration from Welcome to Night Vale and the surreal game, Hello Charlotte uwu
> 
> take note of some of the horror / blood / gore elements.  
> they're not exactly prominent but they're there lolol
> 
> plot... whom!  
> the plot and organization left as soon as i started writing lmfao
> 
> \- sal

The graveyard shift is excruciatingly long. Naturally, no one comes in as late as 3am in the morning unless cravings need to be satisfied or murders need to be hidden, but when there’s no customers to fill the hours, it goes as long as forever.

And forever is a rather long time, but not as long as eternal.

It’s something Jeongin comes to realize despite working at the _Stray’s Mini Market_ for almost eight months now. If he has to listen to another loop of the Jaws theme instrumental play throughout the store speakers, he’s going to go crazy.

It’s 3:56am in the morning and Jeongin is manning the front counter for the past fourth hour. He fingers thru an old, gory Halloween magazine and eyeing the featured costumes on the pages (that look a tad too realistic to be fake) when the door slide open and the welcoming bell belts out a blood curdling screech. Jeongin doesn’t bat a lash at the noise, nor does he look up. He was there to watch Minho change the settings to the bell system from classic elevator music to a compilation of horrific screams from his extended list of favorite horror movies.

“Wow… I could never get used to that.”

Jeongin looks up from his magazine, blinking his eyes owlishly at the stranger standing in front of the counter. He’s … outrageously beautiful, he thinks distractedly. Ginger hair swept into a fringe to the left, wide eyes, small nose, pouty lips, and dark freckles scattered over cheeks like splattered paint on the canvas -- _sculpted by the gods_ , Jeongin is sure of it.

He wears a black turtleneck, decorated with a loose silver chain to match the long earrings that dangle from his lobes. _And nice fashion sense too_ , Jeongin notes mournfully, _he’s gonna get jumped someday_. These kinds of people don’t match well with the mini market’s atmosphere, yet they seem to gravitate towards it anyways.

Curiouser and curiouser.

“Can I help you?” Jeongin asks with uncertainty, hurriedly shutting and shoving away the gory magazine under the counter and out of sight.

The beautiful boy smiles gorgeously, “Yeah. I’m Felix! I’m a new employee for the graveyard shift here.”

Oh. Well, that’s nice.

  


“Is hyung crazy? Was he high off crack when he hired him? Is that it?” Jeongin sniffs.

Not long after Jeongin surrenders the front counter to his new, enthusiastic co-worker, he discovers Hyunjin curled up and nursing a venti iced americano on one of the decorative bean bag chairs in the staff room. It kind of irritates the younger that he’s been there the entire duration of his shift without having said a word, not even sparing a hand for when he was restocking the shelves earlier. However, he’s too frazzled about the recent events to give a shit right now.

“What’s wrong with him?” Hyunjin asks.

“He’s pretty,” Jeongin answers in earnest, ignoring the dumbfounded look Hyunjin sends him from across the room, “what? I said what I said.”

“He really must be pretty if you’re willing to complain about it,” the older says, sipping his coffee, “like honestly -- you’ve never said anything when _I_ started working here.”

“Because while you’re pretty attractive, your bad fashion sense cancels it out. You’re average and no one wants to rob your nerd, hipster crossbred ass,” Jeongin sighs, closing his eyes and melting into his bean bag chair.

There’s a pause.

“You called me attractive so I guess I’ll let the rest of what you said slide.”

Jeongin groans.

  


Despite the odds, Jeongin enjoys his part-time job at _Stray’s Mini Market_.

It caters to his chronic insomnia and gives him something to do in order to release his stressed nerves. Sometimes, he likes the chaos that ensues around the workplace, like the one time Jisung drizzled green, slippery Dawn dish soap all over the floor of Aisle 3 and using one of the sleighs from the Christmas section to slide through it. (It ended disastrously with a mild concussion, shattered porcelain and a broken sleigh. The scratch marks are still etched on the tiled floor for nostalgic reminder to this day.) He also likes the litter of three-eyed cats that levitate through the doors on occasion, keeping him company when he has to cram for school while on the clock.

And contrary to belief and observed behavior, he likes his co-workers, no matter how unconventional and aggravating they might be.

Woojin and Changbin regularly work the day shifts, so he rarely sees them except the few times they walk out of the market after they sign out of their shifts. To let the younger people suffer while managing the graveyard shifts makes Jeongin think their morals a tad askew, but they treat him nicely whenever they see him and leave small candy underneath the counter for him to eat when he’s feeling hungry so they’re an OK in his book.

Who he mostly sees in the workplace are Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Seungmin. He’d mention his store manager, Chan, but at this point, he’s an entity Jeongin isn’t certain is real or a simple figment of his imagination. It’s only been eight of them once Jeongin, the unfortunate youngest, joined the ranks. By themselves, they’re pretty wild and turn the _Stray’s Mini Market_ into an absolute hell fest, but considering the other thought provoking shit that occurs on the bloody avenue, they’re angels.

But now there’s Felix, and Jeongin doesn’t know how to feel about an addition to their group of eight.

Despite Jeongin’s initial complaints about the gorgeous freckled boy, he thinks the other is alright. He’s hard working, obediently takes orders when asked and displays immeasurable patience for the faceless entities that drift in and out the market. Occasionally, he’d laugh out loud about nothing in particular or crack dumb jokes that makes the corners of Jeongin’s lips quirk without him knowing. Early on, he figures there’s no one to truly hold him back in this kind of occupation, so he -- to Jeongin’s tearful blessing -- plays the Little Einsteins theme song over the speakers and giddily dances to it while mopping the aisles.

Sad to say, but he’ll fit it quite nicely with their group of nutcases.

  


He’d really like to say “what’s new” when Jisung arrives for his shift, sporting a black eye and bloody nose, but Seungmin beats him to it.

“You’re late,” Hyunjin whines from behind the staff room door.

“Sorry, some thugs were messing with the three eyed cats outside,” Jisung sniffs although everyone tells everyone not to inhale their blood, “they’re our babies, you know? I couldn’t let them do that.”

Seungmin looks like he has something smart to say, but he says nothing and nods. There is a humble agreement between all of the co-workers about the litter of levitating cats that reside close to their market, and that is: **All Who Hurts Them Will Suffer**.

“I heard there’s a new employee,” Jisung conversates idly, smiling at Jeongin gratefully when he passes him the box of tissues from under the counter, “how’s he so far?”

“Well, he’s not dead yet,” Seungmin replies.

Hyunjin emerges from the staff room and tosses his empty coffee cup into the trash bin beside the door. He looks down at Jisung and appraises him for the first time he’s saw him this week, before commenting with a snicker, “you look like shit.”

“Beats drinking actual shit like you do,” Jisung retorts, “that iced americano with three shots of espresso you drink every night? Souls of the dead, I swear.”

“Wouldn’t be too far-fetched,” Jeongin says dreamily.

“No wonder I always feel fuller and younger when I drink it,” Hyunjin muses.

The overhead lights flicker in amusement. The entrance doors slide open although no one is there, and the bell rings in hysteria.

 

One night, Felix bothers Jeongin when the market is empty and quiet, aside from the Johny Johny song that plays lowly through the speakers.

“So how old are you?”

Jeongin looks up from his textbook and squints at Felix who smiles kindly at him.

“I’ve been sixteen since February 8th, in year 2001 if you really want to know,” he says, “what about you?”

“I just turned seventeen in September, 2000,” Felix grins, “so I guess I’m your hyung!”

Jeongin snorts and pushes up his circle glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose. Felix’s smile is dazzling, it seems to shine brighter than the store lights and radiate warmer than the sun in the sky. He’s sure that if he turned off the lights right now, the only thing left defined in the darkness would be Felix’s lanky silhouette.

  


Chan actually arrives to work for the first time in a while, just not in circumstances that the workers would have expected.

Minho has the man supported, arm held over his shoulder and a hand carefully gripping Chan’s waist. The bruises on his body appear especially purple and blue. Blood pours from his remaining wounds and sadly forms a crimson puddle at his feet. However, if anyone looks like he’s uncomfortable and in pain, it’s Minho and four employees crowded around them.

Asshole, they’re going to have to clean that shit up! What an insensitive store manager.

“Hyung,” Jisung begins tentatively, uneasily eyeing the gore and viscera strewn on the man’s white polo. Surprisingly, Felix stares without blinking, same polite smile on his face. “What happened to you?”

“Died,” Chan wheezes, coughing some blood that grossly splatters on Seungmin’s cheek, “Minho found me and did a resurrection at the last minute.”

“This is why I told you that you’re gonna get mugged someday on these streets,” Jeongin whispers to Felix with a nudge of his elbow.

With sparkling eyes, Felix cheekily giggles, “but you’ll be there to revive me, right?”

  


“Uh.”

Jeongin’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he absorbs the scene playing out before him. Woojin has a customer pinioned to the ground, their TV head glass completely shattered and antennae floppy -- so Jeongin is sure the customer is knocked out. Questionable black and static-like liquid dribbles from beneath them, and Jeongin simply hopes that he won’t have to clean that up when he clocks in later. It doesn’t look like something that’ll easily come off from the tiles, either.

It’s too early for this. People might disagree and point out it’s 3 in the afternoon, but Jeongin insists that any time he wakes up is morning.

Woojin looks up from the TV headed person underneath him, smiling like an angel at Jeongin.

“Hey kiddo, you wanna help me out?”

“Oh … uh, sure. I guess.”

By the time the regular day shift is over, Changbin is forced to take care of the counter despite many protests. All it takes for Changbin to (reluctantly) agree is Woojin squeezing his shoulder, tilting his head innocently and drawling a low, “ _please?_ ” In the back of the mini market, Woojin and Jeongin have to heave the TV headed customer to the accumulated pile of shoplifting customers they’ve caught over the months.

Unfortunately, it smells like feces and Chan’s left foot. To his chagrin, the smell clings to Jeongin’s sweater for the rest of the week.

The next day Jeongin and Seungmin arrive for their shifts, they discover an edit to the warning sign placed on the mini market entrance doors. Seungmin stifles a chuckle under a snort and shakes his head as he walks in. Jeongin has to fight the grin.

 **All Shoplifters Will Be Killed and Used to Heat The Furnace**.

  


Around the third month of Felix working at the mini market, Minho pops the bold question to Jeongin while Felix is restocking the shelves. The Baby Shark theme song plays joyfully over the speakers, and heavily contrasts the anguished screams whenever the sliding doors open to reveal a customer.

“So you like Felix?”

The youngest looks up from his book, 50 Shades of Ultimate Torture, and stares at his hyung in utter disbelief behind golden rimmed frames. The older boy fixes him with a fascinated yet coy smile, chewing and smacking his spearmint bubblegum in his mouth. Just where did he get such an idea?

But now that he thinks about the question, Jeongin feels the tips of his ears flush and his shoulders rise like a cat prepared to pounce on her prey. However, he doesn’t say anything response. He simply allows the steam to smoke from his ears and glares down at his book, too annoyed to pick up where he left off. Honestly, how dare the other boy make him think about -- and _realize_ \-- his feelings for someone he’s only known for a month.

It’s a dumb crush anyways. It’ll go away someday.

Felix is too otherworldly and threatening to consider batting an eyelash towards Jeongin’s way. The younger is pretty sure he’s caught the boy’s eyes on Changbin whenever he exits the shop, too. That’s right, they’re merely co-workers and perhaps what one calls friends, but they won’t be anything other than that. It’s another point to his despair, rather than his happiness. He has to be optimistic or dumb to hope for a happy ending.

 

 

Jeongin rests, but not quite sleeps, in the staff room. Has been for the past four hours during his shift. It happens that he resembled death more than usual tonight, so the moment Felix saw him at the counter, the boy ushered him into the staff room to rest and took it upon himself to take care of the front.

(When it happens, the younger ignores the fluttery feeling in his stomach, and the way his toes curl in his converse shoes.)

In one of the periods in which he’s in the limbo or consciousness and unconsciousness, he hears Felix’s deep voice sound from the other side of the staff room door.

“Sir.”

There’s another muffled voice, nobody the boy recognizes and guesses is another annoying customer. Jeongin struggles to climb off the bean bag chair and wobbles his way out of the staff room, caring less about how his ratty his appearance might be. The door opens noisily, but only the customer -- dashing and obviously bothering Felix with the switchblade in his hand -- looks up at him in offense.

 _Oh_ , Jeongin thinks distantly, _this is a robbery_.

But, Felix stands with his back to Jeongin, stare cold and closed-off towards the customer. Jeongin swears he could feel the Appalachians tremble from here.

“Barely anyone comes here at night, and if there are, they buy a Twix and leave. I can assure you that this cash register is the closest to empty and that’s no need for you to rob it. Also, my wages will stay the same and will not miraculously increase if I deal with you. So put down the switchblade, buy something off the shelves or please leave.”

Jeongin bites back a laugh when the customer hurriedly hides the switchblade back into his pocket and bolts out of the market for mother.

The atmosphere is tense for a few more moments, until Felix exhales and turns around to smile tiredly at Jeongin. This time, he’s the one who looks like hell.

“Hey,” Felix greets softly, knocking a hand against Jeongin’s arm, “I told you to rest. I got this handled.”

“I’m not tired anymore. If anything, you look more tired than me.”

Felix laughs. “Yeah, I suppose I do. Are you going to tell me to go rest in the staff room too?”

Jeongin shrugs his shoulders, “only if you want to? You’re the hyung so I’m not going to force you to do anything. I’m sure you know what you gotta do to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Felix murmurs, leaning back against the counter. Jeongin smiles in the way his eyes disappear and his teeth full of braces appear.

(The shift ends with Felix pressing a soft kiss on Jeongin’s forehead, to which Jeongin acts impulsively and grabs the other’s jacket to pull him closer for an actual kiss. The freckled boy squeaks in surprise, but eventually reciprocates the action in mirth. That is, until Jeongin’s braces cuts a little of Felix’s bottom lip. Jeongin apologizes profusely, but Felix only laughs loudly above the howling winds.)

  
  


Chan brings out the ancient radio from the back for the first time in months. It’s a small, wooden, portable thing that everyone in the store cherishes like it’s their baby. Aside from playing music, it plays podcasts that the co-workers like to listen to while working in the market.

At first, Felix doesn’t understand the joy it brings to them, but he grows attached to it as much as they are after a good week with it on the counter.

“Dude, there’s a podcast about aliens playing,” Hyunjin whispers in excitement as soon as Jeongin approaches with a mop and bucket full of black tar from the last customers.

“A lot of aliens come through here enough, I don’t know why you’re so excited about a podcast when we see them almost every time.”

“You’re no fun,” Hyunjin teases, reaching over to pinch Jeongin’s fat cheek.

Jeongin glares but says nothing.

“Speaking of aliens,” Jisung starts when he comes out of the staff room with a salted caramel frappuccino that might or might not have 9 added packets of sugar in it.

“We’re not speaking about aliens anymore.”

“ _Speaking of aliens_ ,” Jisung stresses, “I think our store manager might be one.”

“Not surprising,” Hyunjin and Jeongin agree simultaneously.

  
  


The fifth month, Felix and Jeongin start date. Or they go on a date.

For Jeongin, it’s the same thing, really.

Both of them can’t really afford a nice, candlelit dinner at any available restaurant (not a lot of places is open at 2:34 in the morning) so they use the mini market to their advantage. They put to use to the Yankee candles everybody smells until their high and doesn’t buy, arrange a bouquet of flowers made entirely by _fake_ flowers, stole some frozen cheese sticks to microwave and use the porch furniture located at the corner of the mini market. And as per request, a lovely ballad plays over the speakers (actually, it’s a constant loop of the Wonder Pets theme song) and the lights are dimmed to accommodate.

“You know, I really feel like you ripped my heart out,” Jeongin states honestly.

Felix’s eyes flicker, glistening in interest, “oh, really? Is that bad?”

“Not really,” Jeongin shrugs, “kinda hurts a little. Feels like I’m being eaten alive sometimes … but if it’s you, I guess I don’t really mind.”

“Oh,” Felix grins sweetly, “that’s cute. I like you too, Jeonginnie.”

“Mhmm."

Jeongin pets one of the levitating three eyed cats that hums and sleeps by the leg of his chair with his socked foot, wondering how he was he blessed with such an ending.

 

 

"Frankly, I thought you liked Changbin."

"Oh, seriously? Nah, he's cute, but you're cuter."

"..."

  
  


There’s a new sign on the mini market store by the sixth month, glued underneath the shoplifter one.

**Closed Every Friday for Felix and Jeongin to Have Their Dates! Fuck Off!**

**Author's Note:**

> contact me!
> 
> twitter: [gayjisungie](http://twitter.com/gayjisungie)  
> instagram: [jaeminwyd](http://instagram.com/jaeminwyd/)  
> discord: sal #0914


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